


All I want for Christmas

by MagykFey



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clumsy Tony, Insecure Tony, Kinda, M/M, Mystery, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Is a Good Bro, Winteriron Holiday Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagykFey/pseuds/MagykFey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winter is always a hard time on Bucky because it makes the Winter Soldier closer to the surface and his metal arm aches with the constant cold. Even worse, Tony is overworking himself, covered in bruises and won't let Bucky help him. All Bucky wants is a warm, relaxed Christmas with his new found family. Is that really too much to ask?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift for one-direction-at-221b on tumblr. Sorry that this got up a little later than expected. Hope you enjoy!!

“Good morning sunshine,” Bucky called out, his lips twitching up as Tony slumped against the door-frame, blinking sleepily. “I made breakfast if you want some.”

  
Tony grunted and shambled forward. Rather than sit down at the empty chair across from him, as Bucky directed, Tony flopped over Bucky's back and stuck his cold nose under Bucky's ear. Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss to Tony's forehead before pushing Tony off him. Tony whined, but allowed Bucky to man-handle him to his seat.

  
“Okay, okay. I'll get you some coffee,” Bucky said, grabbing an “I <3 NY” coffee mug and fiddling with the coffee maker. It had taken him ages to learn how to use the stupidly over-complicated machine, but Tony's pleased moans were worth it. After Tony's coffee addiction was soothed, Bucky went back to his scrambled eggs, peering at Tony from under his eyelashes.

  
It still amazed him that Tony allowed Bucky to see him while he was so vulnerable. Tony's eyelashes clumped together and his eyes were glazed with sleep, but he looked better than he had the night before. A few bruises on Tony's face and arms were starting to darken to a painful purple color. Bucky didn't like it, even if it was fairly normal for Tony. He was always banged and bruised, sometimes from fighting as Ironman, sometimes due to lab accidents and sometimes because Tony was a touch clumsy when he was tired. Tony would deny it until his dying breath, but Bucky knew better.

  
“What happened here?” Bucky asked, brushing his thumb over the largest bruise on Tony's arm.

  
“I asked Butterfingers to toss me a wrench. Never again,” Tony muttered into his coffee before making an inquisitive noise and taking interest in Bucky's eggs.

  
Fondness and adoration surged over Bucky, threatening to overwhelm him and force him to do something unbearably sweet. Instead he grunted back and pushed his plate over to Tony. Tony blinked at him for a moment then dug into the eggs like he was a starving man. Come to think of it, Bucky wasn't sure exactly how much Tony had eaten during his last engineering binge.

  
“Finish those up if you want. Sure. It's not like I'm the one with the demanding metabolism,” Bucky teased. Tony rolled his eyes and finished scarfing down Bucky's breakfast. Something about the easy domesticity of their exchange urged Bucky's lips into a dopey grin.

  
“You're getting lunch with Steve today. I'm sure you'll get enough to eat after three or four restaurants,” Tony muttered, getting up and grabbing more coffee. It was Bucky's turn to roll his eyes.

  
“That one happened once or twice and it wasn't like we ate the restaurants out of food. Steve was in an adventurous 'let's-explore-the-21st-century' mood. It's not my fault that meant trying every restaurant in a three block radius,” Bucky protested. He had worried that Steve would be forced to roll him back to the tower after that little experiment. Of course, Steve, the little punk, hadn't suffered any ill side-affects.

“Oh sure, blame it on Steve. It's not like you two egg each other on to extreme idiocy. I never thought I could meet someone who was a worse influence on Steve that I was,” Tony said, cradling his coffee mug in both hands as he badgered his way into Bucky's lap. He was too big to fit with any sort of dignity, but – as Bucky learned very quickly into their relationship – Tony Stark was more than willing to sacrifice his dignity for cuddles.

“Eh, I think you two are good for one another. Steve needs someone to knock him around when he gets stuck in his ways and you need someone to remind you to think things through fully before jumping in half-cocked,” Bucky said, resting his head on Tony's shoulder.

Tony hummed, considering, and the two sat in silence for a few moments. _I don't deserve to feel this peaceful_ , Bucky's mind whispered. _I killed his parents. I'm going to mess this up too – He forgave me_ , Bucky reminded himself sharply. He startled when Tony squeezed his shoulder.

“Hey, knock it off. You've got that guilty puppy look on your face again. Go out to lunch with Steve, maybe beat each other up a bit until you feel better. I'll be home late again,” Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “SI is trying to get a new project out before Christmas. It will happen, but it's making my life hell right now.”

“Well, since you're working so hard, I'm sure Pepper wouldn't mind giving you up for the week after Christmas. We could go out to Malibu or just stay here, curled up in bed,” Bucky murmured, messaging Tony's shoulders with steady hands. Tony moaned and arched towards Bucky.

“Sounds like heaven. I'll keep that in mind while I whip R&D into shape,” Tony said. He got up with a groan and, after a quick coffee refill, was gone.

-.-.-

 

“Could you have a bigger, dopey-er grin on your face?” Steve asked as Bucky strolled into the gym. Bucky rolled his eyes, living with Tony and Steve all his life had given him lots of practice in dealing with little shits, and started wrapping his hands.

  
“Well, you'd have a stupid grin too if you woke up each morning with the richest, smartest, and most handsome man in America in your bed,” Bucky needled back, a teasing glint in his eye. “At least I'm not hung up on some mystery man.”

Steve flushed from head to toe and muttered something about stupid friends who knew too much. Bucky laughed and punched his shoulder. He still didn't know who Steve's crush was, but Natasha had challenged him to a contest – whoever could find out first owed the other $10 and a back massage. Bucky was going to get that massage.

“Come on lover-boy. It's December. I'm sure a little Christmas luck isn't too much to hope for,” Bucky said, hopping up and down slightly before jumping into a stretch routine. He could spar with Steve without much warming up, but stretching never hurt.

A few rounds with Steve later and Bucky was sore, sweating and settled completely into his skin. He and Steve were nearly tied for speed, Steve being seconds faster while Bucky's metal arm was stronger. However, the section where the metal arm connected to his body was a weak point. It was a balancing act, one that Bucky enjoyed testing when he had the chance.

“So how's... you know,” Steve started, awkwardly waving a hand at Bucky's arm.

“The arm? It's fine. My shoulder aches when it gets too cold, but Tony's been messing around with heating control in the arm and when that doesn't work a warm water bottle or heating pad does the trick,” Bucky said, rubbing said shoulder to ease the phantom pain he got from thinking about the cold.

“That's great,” Steve said, beaming. He hesitated and Bucky felt his stomach sink slightly. Steve didn't want to know about the arm. Well he did, but not as much as he wanted to know about the Winter Soldier.

“The Soldier is not a problem. I'm having a few more flashbacks and every once in a while I've spaced out. Blank memory and all that. But it's just winter. The cold makes him closer to the surface. It's under control,” Bucky stressed, his teeth grinding as he fought the instinct to shift into a fighting stance. Steve wasn't a threat, Bucky knew that even if the Soldier part of him had trouble understanding it. Steve held his hands up in a 'don't shoot' gesture, his face sympathetic.

“I’m sure it's not a problem, but I want to keep it that way. If we ignore a potential problem there's no way we can nip it in the bud if anything does start to go wrong,” Steve said in a perfectly reasonable voice. It was the same perfectly reasonable voice Steve used when he was convincing Col. Philips that the Howling Commandos really could hijack a speeding train in the alps during the middle of winter. Bucky was mostly immune to the tone of voice because it often lead to Steve doing stupidly dangerous things, but in this case he knew that Steve had a point.

“It's... Not as bad as when I first got here,” Bucky said, the words grating again his tongue as his heart-rate ticked up. He didn't want to admit that he was worried about it. “The nightmare-memories have picked up, which is making me a little jumpier than usual. I've asked Jarvis to keep an eye on me.”

“Have you mention anything to Tony?”

“No, because it's fine,” Bucky snapped. Steve bumped his shoulder companionably and Bucky realized that he was driving his nails into the cracks of his metal arm. Bucky sighed and shook his hand out. “I don't want to put another thing on his plate. He is really stressed out about some project for SI.”

“Okay, but I still think you should tell him. Then again, it's your relationship and your call,” Steve said, backing off and heading to the showers. Bucky's shoulders slumped as Steve walked away. He made to follow him when Steve turned back around. “Although, have you thought about talking to Ms. Potts- Pepper about how stressed Tony is?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. How like Steve to say he's going to let it slide so you relax just enough that he can slip in some more advice.

“Not yet, but I've been planning on it. Maybe I'll go over there after lunch.”

“You've got this Bucky. Just, keep me in the know,” Steve said. Once again Bucky was struck by how lucky he was to know Steve and how lucky it was that the two of them survived Hydra. He caught up to Steve, pulled him into a rough – nearly smothering – bear hug, and muttered a “Thanks” into his hair. Steve squeezed back.

“Don't mention it.”

-.-.-

 

Bucky looked around Ms. Potts office cautiously. It was immaculate, as always, and full of smooth modern furniture. It could have come straight off one of those home magazine covers and was so completely unlike any of Tony's work spaces that Bucky couldn't understand how Tony would have spent any time here when he was CEO. He wandered around the room, leaning down to take a closer look at the odd swinging metal structure on her desk. Every time he came here he tried to figure out how it worked, with no luck so far. Maybe he would ask Tony to explain it to him someday. Bucky heard the door open and snapped to attention, twisting to face Pepper.

“Oh James! You're here early. It's good to see you. Can I offer you something to drink?” Pepper asked, tapping across the room in shoes that Bucky was pretty sure had come from Natasha's closet.

“Ma'am. I mean, Virginia. Hi,” Bucky said, wincing at the awkward, stuttered way his words sounded. He still hadn't found the balance between being charming – lady's man style – and getting Pepper to genuinely like him. It always made conversations with her a bit stilted. He pulled himself together and gave the CEO a beaming smile. “I'm fine really. I'll be in and out in no time. Thank you so much for making time in your busy schedule to meet with me.”

“Don't worry about it James and really, call me Pepper. Only my sister ever calls me Virginia anymore,” Ms. Potts chuckled and Bucky gave her a hesitant smile. “Besides, this is the perfect excuse for me to get away from stuffy old men. Believe me, I would do anything to get a break from bickering board members. Now sit down, make yourself comfortable. What can I do for you James?” Pepper asked, settling herself in the chair across the desk from Bucky.

“Well you can call me Bucky for a start,” Bucky said. He relaxed when his light teasing tone made Pepper smile. He shifted, perching on the edge of the seat. “And I'm here because I couldn't help, but notice how stressed Tony is lately. He's not sleeping and he's overworking himself to the point where he ends up being more bruised than not. I was wondering if this is a triage situation or a retreat and regroup situation.”

Pepper made a thoughtful noise, pursed her lips and gave Bucky a considering stare. He sat up straighter, freezing and pulling his hand away when he realized he was tracing the cracks of his metal arm again. Pepper's intense concentration was making him feel like there was a piece of the puzzle that he was missing.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked.

“Well, worse case scenario Tony can't take a day off and I spend the next few weeks until Christmas making sure he has the bare necessities to keep functioning, ergo triage. Ideally, you can give him a weekend off and I force him to spend it in bed, watching stupid movies and catching up on sleep. Thus retreat and regroup,” Bucky explained.

“How very military of you,” Pepper replied. Bucky was surprised to note that her comment was just that, a comment, no judgment. “I'm not sure how well Tony will take a retreat and regroup approach. He does have the tendency to freak out more when he feels unneeded.”

Bucky thought about it for a few moments and figured she was right. He knew Tony well, but Pepper had know him longer and had a better grasp of what past insecurities might pop up again.

“So triage then?” He asked, to confirm. Pepper nodded.

“Yes, that's probably the best. I can't afford to give him up right at this moment and I'm not entirely sure that would be best for Tony either,” Pepper said. “Let me know if there is anything I can do. While he is here I'll be sure to keep an eye on him and if you ever need me help give me a call.”

“I will,” Bucky said.

Pepper hesitated then stood, coming around the desk and taking both of Bucky's hands in hers. Bucky tried to ignore the way her pale hands looked so breakable against his metal hand. It would be so easy to crush her fingers. However, Pepper's body language was open. She felt safe with him and Bucky didn't really understand why though he appreciated the gesture.

“I mean it. If you need me call me. I love Tony and I don't want him hurt, but I also know that he is really hard to love.” She held up a finger to cut off Bucky's protest. “Not because he ruins things, but because it's difficult to love someone who doesn't love themselves. Sometimes trying to convince him that you really do like him is like shouting into the void, it's seems useless. But it really isn't. I know it may seem awkward to come to me, especially since Tony and my relationship didn't work out, but I can help you if you need it,” Pepper said.

Bucky's gut tightened and he wanted to pull away from Pepper's touch. He didn't like the idea of asking for her help with his and Tony's relationship, even if he liked Pepper. He took a deep breath and tried to seriously consider what she was offering. Here was a woman who had been through some of the worst parts of Tony's life with him and never gave up on him. Maybe she could have some useful insights as to what Tony was thinking.

“Let me put it this way,” Pepper said, cutting through Bucky's thoughts. “On our 1 year anniversary I told him to take the night off, I would plan the celebration and as long as he showed up at 6pm, dressed in a casual suit and not drunk I would be satisfied. 6pm came and went and there was no sign of Tony. That hurt. I asked him to do one task that I thought would be easily within his reach and he didn't manage it. Two hours in I got worried. What if something bad had happened to him?” Pepper sighed, soft and resigned. “I found him in his workshop, reeking of whiskey and trying to finish three projects at once. I don't think he even heard me come in.”

Bucky nodded, that sounded exactly like Tony. He already knew this so he didn't quite understand why Pepper was sharing this with him. It must have shown in his expression because Pepper squeezed his hands.

“Give me a second, I'm getting there. So here I was, having spent hours planning and preparing for our date only to find that Tony didn't keep his end of the bargain because he wanted to play with his toys while drunk. I left and the first person I called was Rhodey. I must have ranted for at least two hours. When I got off the phone I made sure Jarvis was watching Tony and I went to bed. It helped. I can't begin to explain to you how much it helped to give myself a little distance, to take care of myself, before I went to talk to Tony. That was one of the first times a mistake in our relationship didn't turn into a fight and one of the more striking times I've realized that a lot of what Tony does is because he doesn't think that he is enough. Turns out, the reason he panicked is because I didn't give him enough to do. I let him stew in his own thoughts and he twisted that into thinking that I wanted to plan the date because I didn't think he would do it right. He didn't understand that I still like him, even when he isn't being useful,” Pepper conclude with a smile which was as fond as it was exasperated. “Even if I can't be the person you call when Tony does something that seems to make no sense, I want to know that you have someone who will step into those shoes.”

“Why me? Why now?” Bucky asked, fighting the urge to get up and stalk around the room. Pepper raised her hand, ticking off a finger for each point she made.

“You have seen Tony in some pretty awful moment and you've stayed. You honestly don't mind taking care of him. You don't mind his engineering binges, within reason. You accept his need to be Ironman and you love him. I think you are good for Tony and I would rather you rant about any frustrations concerning him with me then let them build up until you scream them out in the middle of a fight. You and Tony will have fights, I can't stop that, but I can try to make them less painful for both of you. Besides, Tony likes you and trusts you which makes me willing to give you a chance,” Pepper explained.

“Thank you,” Bucky murmured, a bit humbled by the amount of thought Pepper had put into this. “I think- I think I will call you if I need to. You, more than anyone, can probably help me with Tony-related troubles.”

“Good. Now you said he was really stressed. All he has to do for SI is some coding for a new phone, which shouldn't be that stressful. In fact, I would say this is easily one of the least stressful years we've had. Is there anything going on with Avengers business?” Pepper asked, frowning and toying with her bracelet.

“Not that I'm aware of. We haven't had much to do lately. Apparently evil dislikes the snow as much as everyone else in New York,” Bucky said with a shit-eating grin. Pepper smiled back, but it didn't reach her eyes, and Bucky's smile faded. He hesitated before reaching out to pull Pepper's fingers away from her bracelet and give them a gentle squeeze. “I'll keep an extra eye on him.”

“Thank you,” Pepper said, her smile becoming more genuine. “I will too of course. Tony deserves to have a few people looking out for him.”

“I completely agree with you ma'am,” Bucky replied, putting a little teasing emphasis on the word 'ma'am'.

“Well James if that's how you're going to be, I do believe you have over stayed your welcome. There is the door,” Pepper said, waving her hand with an exaggerated flourish, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Bucky brought Pepper's hand to his lips, bowed over it slightly and then swept towards the door. He could still hear Pepper's laughter as he cross through the hallway to the elevators. He was glad that she was happy, because their conversation only served to make Bucky more worried.

-.-.-

 

Tony was still deep in an engineering trance by the time Bucky made it back home, so he fixed himself a sandwich and settled on the couch to watch Clint and Thor mash controller buttons and shout at one another. Bucky still didn't quite get what they found so amusing about driving around little race cars, pushing one another off race tracks or sending turtle shell careening towards other cars, but it was a familiar enough sight to be comfortable.

“You cheat!” Thor roared, thundering to his feet and dropping his controller as his car fell off yet another turn in the road.

“You're pissed because I know how to use my surroundings to my advantage. Which, by the way, is not cheating,” Clint said, eyes remaining fixed on the screen.

Thor gave the screen a considering look, gave the oblivious Clint a considering look, shot a wink at Bucky and picked up the couch – Clint and all. Clint shrieked and dropped his controller in an attempt to balance on the now mobile couch.

“Cheater!” Clint cried, trying to grab for his controller as his car went diving for a cliff.

“Not so my good fellow. I do believe you yourself said it just now. You are merely angered because I have used the surrounding area to my advantage,” Thor said, with all the patience of mountain.

Bucky grinned and relaxed as the easy banter between his teammates ebbed and flowed. He lost himself in the camaraderie and even let Clint badger him into playing a game or two. He failed miserably, but gained a new appreciation of video games. It was only when Jarvis spoke up to ask if any of them were interested in joining Dr. Banner in ordering supper that Bucky realize how late it had gotten.

“I'm going to see if I can separate Tony from his work long enough to eat something,” Bucky said, brushing off Clint's pleads to 'play just one more game.'

“Good luck Soldier of Winter. You go to do mighty battle and I hope you return alive,” Thor said compassionately. “So that I may prove to you that I truly am the champion of Mario Kart!”

“Later,” Bucky said, forcing a chuckle. He knew Thor didn't mean anything cruel by calling him the Soldier of Winter. Everyone had their own Thor-nicknames, but something about the recent rise in blank memory space and nightmares – the kind he wasn't sure were just nightmares – made him uneasy with the name.

He found himself tracing the lines of his metal arm with his nails, over and over again, as he took the elevator down to Tony's lab. He forced himself to stop, holding his arms at his sides. The metal arm ached with phantom pain and his breathing picked up. He didn't notice the ding of the elevator as it reached Tony's lab, nor did he hear Jarvis's concerned voice letting Tony know of his arrival.

It was too cold and didn't have his gun. He didn't have an arm. They took it from him. Or maybe it was always that way. He didn't know – couldn’t remember. Something touched his arm, flesh arm, and he jumped backward, sealing himself into a corner. He could feel the walls on either side of him. There were too close, he couldn't breath and-

“Hey there Bucky. It's December 6th and you're in New York City. We're in Stark Tower right now. I'm going to reach out and touch your arm, ready?”

Something warm - someone's hand - touched him and he suppressed the urge to flinch. The hand stayed there as the voice flowed in and out. He couldn't quite concentrate on the words. Slowly the other person shifted Bucky until he was away from the walls.

“Okay. I'm going to sit right here. I want you to press your back against mine and focus on the way I'm breathing.”

Bucky nodded. That was easy. He could do that. It took a few moments to settle himself against the warm body of the other person and their constant chatter kept him from falling back into memories. He focused on their breathing and started to mimic it.

“Perfect. Just keep going like that. Did I tell you what Dummy tried to do today? I told him 'go clear off one of the worktable' and guess what that little shit did? I'll tell you what! He looked me right in the eye and then proceeded to sweep everything off the table and on to the floor. I'm going to freeze him and make him a coat rack. We need one of those for winter coats and things, right? Or maybe I'll make him into a Christmas tree holder or –“

“Don't make Dummy into a Christmas tree holder. Bad idea Tony,” Bucky croaked, his voice feeling rusty and awkward.

“Why not?” Tony demanded, flinging his arms around so much that Bucky could see them in his peripheral vision.

“It's an important job and he's sure to screw up just to spite you. Maybe you should take the hint and stop upgrading him,” Bucky murmured.

“I'm not even changing his code anymore, I'm just organizing whatever coding he has come up with this time. When I made a learning bot I should have made sure he could code properly,” Tony grumbled.

“I'm sure he does it just to give you a hard time. He's a little shit, but you love him,” Bucky said. His fingers were tracing over the cracks in his arm again and this time he didn't have enough energy to stop them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony muttered, trying – and failing – to keep the affection out of his words. He tilted his head back and pressed it against Bucky's, his voice keeping the affection and gaining a hint of concern. “How are you?”

“I've been better,” Bucky said with a shudder. “I think the cold and the wind today, just...”

Bucky trailed off. It could have been the weather, but this was happening more and more often and last year he hadn't notice this much of a backslide. At least he hadn't hurt anyone.

“Jarvis said you came down here to get me to eat. Still hungry? I can call for some take out and we can watch stupid Christmas movies for awhile. SI will survive if I take a night off,” Tony said, reaching his hand to the side and wiggling his fingers. Bucky took a deep breath and shifted his hand from his metal arm to Tony's warm palm.

“If I had know all it would take for you to give yourself a night off was a panic-attack I would have had one sooner,” Bucky teased, his voice still raw and shaky.

“Sure and the next time I want you to be easier on yourself I'll do a few unsafe lab tests on myself. Great idea hon,” Tony shot back dryly.

Bucky snorted and laughed, though it sounded a little wet. “Fuck you Stark.”

“Mean. You were just mean to me so now I get to pick out the movie,” Tony said. Bucky could picture the over-dramatic pout now gracing Tony's lips. He turned around to see Tony and sure enough, there was the pout. The bags under Tony's eyes were worse than this morning, but his eyes were clear and bright.

“Alright Tony, whatever you say,” Bucky said, in a voice that he intended to be mocking, but ended up sounding tired and affectionate instead.

Even if his day hadn't been the best, Bucky took one look at Tony's grin and figured that it sure as hell wouldn't be the worst.

-.-.-

 

Bucky wondered if that evening had lulled him into a fall sense of security. Tony was wonderful. Well, not exactly, but he was Tony and Bucky rather liked Tony so it was wonderful. However, the next day Bucky woke up alone and Jarvis told him that Tony left early to get somethings done in the lab. The next few days continued in the same vein. Bucky would herd Tony away from his work for some supper, and a movie if he was lucky, only to find the next morning Tony had gone back to work and was looking more worn out than before. Bucky considered calling Pepper, but he knew she was busy and he decided the situation wasn't dire enough quite yet.

Bucky fixed up some lunch and headed down to the lab. Bringing Tony a lunch, even if he wouldn't eat it, was better than nothing. Bucky noticed blacked out windows and the distinct lack of blaring music coming from Tony's lab and wondered if he should break down the door or if he should come back later.

“Jarvis?” He asked. The AI was silent. Something was definitely not right with the situation. Bucky set the tray of food down, reached for the door and paused. The door was slightly open. If something was wrong, if someone was in there with Tony-

“No no, I'm fine really. I just need you to distract him for a little while,” Tony said, his voice drifting through the cracked door. Bucky tilted his head. He felt momentarily guilty for eavesdropping, but he lived with a mess of spies, soldiers and ex-assassins, secrets weren't really a thing in the tower.

“Why? Because- Yes I know that, but Bucky can't know about it,” Tony huffed. Bucky could hear the edge of tiredness-driven desperation coloring his words. He really wanted to wrap Tony up in a hug and make him just stop worrying, but he knew that that sort of thinking was idealistic. No matter how much you love someone you can't fix all their problems for them, especially not for someone like Tony.

“Look, just- I don't know, take him to central park for a few hours this after noon that's all. Please, if I could just have a few hours where I'm not worried about him walking in on me-” Tony pleaded, the desperate tinge to his voice becoming diamond sharp.

Bucky was more than a little concerned now. If Tony was having trouble with Bucky why wasn't Tony telling him?

“You'll do it? Thank god.” The relief in Tony's voice was so strong that his voice cracked. Bucky's heart felt like it had crawled into his stomach and died. Was Tony really that desperate for a guaranteed time during which Bucky wouldn't disturb him? What did Bucky do?

“Wait, what? Only if I get some sleep. Dude really? Sleep is for the weak. Excuse you, my bags do not have bags. The great and handsome Tony Stark never has bags under his eyes. Whatever. You'll get Bucky out of the tower this afternoon? Fine, I promise to take a nap. Just- Okay. Okay I got it. Bye,” Tony said and hung up. He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“Jarvis, unmute,” Tony said, picking up a sodering iron and getting back to work.

“Sir, Mister Barnes-” Jarvis started, sounding a bit worried.

“Not right now J. I need to concentrate,” Tony snapped, cutting him off.

Bucky lingered outside his lab, staring blankly at the lunch tray he had brought with him and trying to tame the twisting his insides were doing. Eventually, Bucky pulled the lab door shut, leaving the lunch tray outside it and hoping Jarvis would inform Tony that it was there later. Bucky wasn't in the right place do deal with it right now.

He went upstairs, grabbing a coat, hat and gloves before heading outside. He need to get away from the tower and apparently Tony needed that too. Bucky got outside and started down the sidewalks, no clear destination in mind. He walked through the streets of New York, letting himself get lost in the crowds – just a passerby in the lives of millions of other people – until his shoulder ached with cold badly enough that he worried about frostbite.

He ducked into a small Italian sub shop. A glance around the place told him that it was clean and decent, if a bit empty. Bucky ordered and ate without tasting his meal. At least his arm was feeling better now.

He took a deep breath and thought back on the conversation he overheard. Tony had sounded stressed, but not scared. It stung a bit that Tony didn't tell Bucky directly when he needed him out of the tower for a bit. However, Bucky knew that Tony was overly sensitive when it came to protecting Bucky's mental health. Maybe Tony was worried that that Bucky would read too much into Tony telling him to get out of the tower for the afternoon.

Bucky shook his head. That was probably it. Now that he had a chance to step back from his initial response he could sort of see where Tony was coming from. Granted, Tony still should have talked to him about it, but it was a little more understandable.

Bucky stood and dropped a generous tip at his table before he headed out the door. Maybe he would see if there was a museum or science center of some kind that he could poke around in for the rest of the day.

-.-.-

 

“I was wondering where you were for lunch this afternoon. Jarvis said you took a walk,” Tony mentioned from bed as Bucky brushed his teeth and pulled on pajamas. Tony had his tablet on him, of course, and was glaring at the screen halfheartedly. In other circumstances Bucky would have teased him about it, tugged the tablet from his hand and cajoled him into cuddling. Now, he wondered if Tony was in a good enough mood for Bucky to bring up the conversation he overheard. One glance at Tony's bloodshot eyes and pale face made Bucky decide against it.

“Yeah. The fresh air did me some good, I think,” Bucky said, sliding under the sheets next to Tony and trying to act as normal as possible. Tony hummed and traced the line of scars where Bucky's flesh met metal. Bucky sighed and melted into the bed.

“How is the arm holding up? Still cold?” Tony asked. He sounded too casual, which Bucky knew meant Tony was worried. Tony dropped the tablet and soothed both his hands down Bucky's back, letting them linger low on his hips before rubbing upwards along Bucky's spine. Bucky let out a contented moan. His worries from earlier in the day drifted off as Tony continued his back massage

“Not terrible. Though, I may have had a problem with frostbite if it weren't for my semi-super-soldier serum blood,” Bucky murmured.

“I'm sorry,” Tony said, pressing a kiss against Bucky's shoulder. “I wish I could fix it, but your arm just can't support all the heat regulators and stuff that I want to add to it. I can get you a warm water bottle if you want.”

Bucky hummed, content just to let Tony keep working the knots out of his back. He relaxed and sighed at the tension he had carried all day was soothed away by Tony's calloused hands.

“I'm fine,” Bucky slurred as his eyelids drifted shut. “Wonderful in fact.”

“Perfect,” Tony replied. His fingers eased over Bucky's bad shoulder, careful not to push hard enough to hurt. “I just wish... I wish there was more I could do to help you with it. Technology is my thing. I should be able to work out something, but I just can't-”

“Shhhh,” Bucky murmured. “You do help. Massage is nice. Now sleep.”

Bucky rolled over, gathered Tony into his arms and dragged him down. Tony protested momentarily, but settled against Bucky's chest and tucked his face against Bucky's neck. Something about the action always lit a protective fire in Bucky's gut. The idea that Tony would trust Bucky to watch his back was empowering.

“I'm working on it,” Tony said and his lips brushed against Bucky's skin, making him shiver.

“Sleep now Tony, work later. You have time,” Bucky whispered back.

“Shhh. Sleep,” he repeated when he felt Tony about to protest. Tony sighed and squirmed in his arms.

Bucky settled his breathing. He noticed the moment Tony started to match his breathing and calm down. Bucky let himself drift off after he was sure that Tony had fallen asleep.

-.-.-

 

Bucky stretched out, groaning as the movement pulled his muscles tight. He blink blearily, flopping an arm across the bed. It was cold. Of course. Bucky rolled over to glance at the clock. 7:30am. He would be stunned if Tony had gotten more than four hours of sleep last night.

Enough was enough. He would drag Tony from his lab and keep him out of it all day. Bucky was sure that Pepper would understand when he called to explain why Tony wasn't getting anything done today.

Bucky rolled from bed and didn't bother to change into real clothes before he left for Tony's lab. If all went well he would be coming back to bed to catch a few more hours of sleep with Tony by his side.

Bucky could hear the strains of Tony's familiar ACDC as he tapped in the passcode to the lab. Sure enough, Tony was bent over his work bench, fiddling with something. He hair was limp and fell like black ink over his waxy skin. He looked sick and Bucky reeled as he was hit with a surge of anger. Why couldn't Tony just take care of himself? Why did he have to push and push and push until he looked like death warmed over?

Bucky took a deep breath and rapped his metal knuckles against the table Tony was working on. Tony flinched and flung himself out of the chair, hands up in air as though he had his suit on and was aiming repulsers towards Bucky. Bucky winced at the dark bruises under Tony's eyes, but managed to smiled at him.

“Good morning. I was just down here to see why my fella wasn't in bed when I woke up,” Bucky said, leaning a hip against Tony's workbench.

Tony blinked at him a few times before letting his arms drop to his sides. Bucky's eyes scanned Tony from head to toe, noting the few new singe marks on his jeans and nasty looking bruises that patterned his arms. Tony needed a shower and at least twelve hours away from the lab.

“Mornin',” Tony croaked back.

“Hey, what did you do to yourself this time?” Bucky asked, running concerned fingers over the fresh bruises.

“Nothing. It's fine,” Tony said, his voice dropping all inflection like he did when he was trying to hide something.

“You sure? If you pout and complain, I don't think it would be that hard to badger a back rub out of me,” Bucky teased. He dropped a hand on Tony's shoulder and Tony stiffened. “I've got to pay you back for last night.”

“It's fine. Drop it,” Tony snapped, pulling his arm out of Bucky's grip and cradling it to his chest. Bucky stared at him.

“Tony...” he started.

“I'm sorry,” Tony sighed, slumping forward over his worktable. “I'm just stressed and not in to mood to deal with your concern, well-meaning or not.” Tony hesitated, giving Bucky a considering look out of the corner of his eye before hunching his shoulders and curling into Bucky's chest. “Obie used to... He used to get all concerned on me and would push me into putting off work if I was hurt and stressed only to turn around and nag me for not getting my work done fast enough. It's not a pleasant memory.”

Tony shuddered and Bucky's gut churned. What little he knew about Obadiah was not pleasant. Steve had mentioned that he was the one to order the hit on Tony in Afghanistan. Natasha told him to look at the news from before the incident. The one time Bucky asked Bruce about him Bruce had turned green at the edges and had to take a breather. Clint refused to call Obadiah anything but, 'that fucking motherfucker.' Thor said he didn't know the man, but he knew he had hurt Tony and he was happy the man had been smited. Or something to that effect. Bucky still hadn't quite gotten used to translating Thor-speak.

All in all Bucky had gathered that Obadiah was bad news. The way Tony's figure was tense and trembling against his chest slightly made him want to punch something. Instead Bucky took a deep breath. He wasn't really one for starting intense emotional conversations, but if Tony needed it Bucky could suck it up and deal.

“Hey dollface,” Bucky murmured, brushing his lips against Tony's temple. Tony remained stiff for a few moments before slumping against Bucky's chest. “Do you want to... Uh.. Talk about it or something?”

A guilty look stole over Tony's features, but it was hidden against Bucky's neck. Tony sighed and shook his head, pulling away from Bucky's embrace.

“I don't deserve you,” Tony murmured. Bucky opened him mouth to refute him, but Tony pushed on. “Thanks but no thanks. Bringing up past scars is not something I want to do right now. Maybe... I'll tell you later. It's probably something you should know.”

“Only if you want to. Whenever you feel ready,” Bucky said with an easy shrug. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

“Stop bothering me,” Tony grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from Bucky. The words stung faintly, but Bucky was sure that Tony didn't mean for them hurt. Tony was stressed and uncomfortable, it didn't have anything to do with Bucky personally.

“Alright. Do you want me to bring some supper down later?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, pulling out of Bucky's arms and diving back into his work. Bucky sighed. He didn't like leaving while Tony was still unhappy, but he knew – better than most – that there were some days when nothing and nobody would make you feel better. Having that knowledge didn't make it any easier to leave.

-.-.-

 

By the time Bucky was able to cajole Tony into taking a break, eating and lying down for a nap, his ego was battered. He thought taking care of a sick Steve was difficult, but Tony was different. At least with Steve Bucky was sure he was doing the right thing. Bucky wasn't certain if getting Tony to sleep was the right thing to do. Then again, Tony looked like he hadn't slept in a year and Pepper had recommend forcing him into bed now and then. If anyone know how to handle Tony it was her.

Tony was out like a light within five minutes of his head hitting the pillow, mouth gaping open allowing small snores to escape. Bucky felt a tinge of guilt bite him, but he pushed it aside. He had to make sure that Tony's bruising wasn't getting worse and if Tony wouldn't let him while he was awake Bucky would have to find out another way.

“Jarvis, lights please,” Bucky murmured, as he shifted Tony around to get a good look at his arm. The bruises were starting to fade, but, they were still painful looking.

Bucky twisted his head, trying to get a better idea of what had caused them. His metal hand shifted over Tony's arm and Bucky's blood ran cold as each finger lined up perfectly with the marks on Tony's arm. He squeezed slightly, freezing as Tony let out a whimper.

“Jarvis, scan his arm,” Bucky pleaded, praying to whoever the hell might be listening that it was nothing more than bruises.

“Sir seems to have a sprained wrist. Probably caused by pushing off an assailant of some sort,” Jarvis replied. His voice was soft and sympathetic, but that didn't help the sudden gut wrenching feeling that was tearing Bucky apart.

What if he had caused that? What if Bucky had given Tony a sprained wrist and he didn't remember it? Best case scenario it was night-terrors making him lash out. Worse case scenario...

Bucky sprung out of the bed, snatching a pair of jeans and Tony's Iron Maiden shirt from the floor. He tugged them on and jotted down a quick note so that Tony wouldn't worry if he woke up alone. Bucky needed to talk to Steve.

-.-.-

 

On his way to Steve's Brooklyn apartment Bucky tried to convince himself that he was wrong. He started listing the evidence he had.

The Tony problem had started about a month after Bucky noticed an uptick in Winter Soldier complications. It also started at the same time the commercials about the new Stark-phone 3 appeared on TV. Correlation was not causation.

What else did he know? Tony was getting hurt sometime between when he and Bucky settled in for bed and when Bucky woke up. Tony refused to tell him how he was getting hurt. Tony wasn't sleeping well. Tony was stressed and overworked and Pepper didn't know why. He had begged someone to get Bucky out of the tower and – worst of all – the bruises on Tony's wrist matched Bucky's metal fingers perfectly.

Did this mean Bucky was getting up in the middle of the night and struggling with Tony? God he hoped not, but maybe that would explain somethings. Could Bucky be the reason that Tony wasn't getting enough sleep? It would also explain why Tony wanted him out of the tower. Yet, Bucky knew that Tony wasn't scared of him. He was sure of that. Tony never told him- But would Tony tell Bucky if he was scared of him? Bucky's breaths started coming in fast and sharp. He closed his eyes. His nails bit at the lines where the plates of his metal arm met one another. God he hoped he wasn't hurting Tony.

“Hey, dude, you're here. Pay up and get out,” snapped the cabbie. Bucky could feel her eyes following him as he fumbled for his wallet. It took him longer than it should have to pay her, his hands were shaking so bad that he dropped his credit card. After managing to pay, despite the cabbie's hard look, he stumbled out of the cab and staggered up the stairs to Steve's apartment building. He pressed himself against the closest wall and slumped to the concert door-stoop, taking a few deep breaths before calling Steve.

The phone rang to voice-mail. Bucky hung up and tried again. Voice-mail. One more time and finally Steve picked up.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve said and Bucky breathed out a shaky sigh of relief. “Bucky?”

Bucky was nodding for a few second before he realized that Steve couldn't see him. He made some sort of affirmative noise.

“Bucky? What's up? Are you okay? Is Tony okay?” Steve asked hurriedly. His voice was muffled for a moment and Bucky thought he heard someone else speaking in the background, but he couldn't pay enough attention to pick out who it was. “Bucky? Buck, you've got me real worried. Is everything okay?”

“I don't think so,” Bucky managed. The New York City air was cold, seeping into his bones and freezing him in place. His shoulder ached and he wished that Tony were there with a hot water bottle or some “new and improved” heating pad. Then he remembered Tony's whimper of pain, his sprained wrist and his refusal to tell Bucky anything about it.

“Bucky hold with me. Are you hurt? Bleeding?” Steve demanded, the concern in his voice dropping as he went from friend to captain.

“The Asset is not injured,” Bucky said. The moment the words came out he knew they were wrong. He wasn't the Asset, he was James Buchanan Barnes goddamn it.

“Hold tight. I'm going to come and get you. Where are-”

“Outside,” Bucky said, his head rolling back against the hard surface of the building. His fingers were too cold to tear at his metal arm, which he was faintly thankful for, and he dropped the phone.

He could hear Steve's voice in the background, then someone was rumbling down the stairs. Within moments Steve was on the stoop next to him, wrapping an arm around his chilled body and helping him inside. He was probably saying something, but Bucky couldn't fit the words with their meanings – he was too busy keeping his warming hand away from his metal arm.

Steve brought him up to his apartment. Sam was inside, setting a pan on the stove and grabbing ingredients from various cupboards.

“Hot chocolate alright?” Sam asked, looking at Steve.

“What, is my tea collection not up to your standards?” Steve joked. His voice was strained, but Sam chuckled anyway.

“I'm wondering if you threw all the good stuff in Boston Harbor. We're not fighting the English anymore Captain. No need to waste perfectly good tea,” Sam teased back. Bucky's head lolled against Steve's shoulder so he could look at Sam and smirk.

“You don't know Steve that well if you don't think he will fight anyone, anywhere,” Bucky said. His words tasted like dust on his tongue, but something about them made the tense set of Steve's shoulders ease. Steve shifted, settled Bucky into a seat at the table and stood next to him with his arms crossed.

“Hey, I'm not that bad. I only fight if it's a good cause,” Steve said, getting a mulish glint in his eye. Sam gave Steve a look so fond it made Bucky's heart ache. Tony used look like that at Bucky. Not anymore.

Bucky's breath hitched and his hand inched towards his metal arm. Over Bucky's head Steve and Sam exchanged a nervous glace. Bucky's nails scrabbled at his arm and Steve gently laid his hand over top of Bucky's.

“Bucky? You wanna tell me what's up? We can go in the living room if you'd be more comfortable,” Steve said.

“I think I'm hurting Tony as the Winter Soldier and not remembering,” Bucky blurted out. He didn't realize how badly he wanted Steve to dismiss his idea as ridiculous until a few seconds of silence passed with no sign of refutation. The fact that Steve thought it was possible made Bucky dig his nails into his metal arm to suppress the shivers running through his body.

“Wow. Okay. What makes you think that?” Steve asked.

Bucky didn't really want to lay out all the evidence again, but he had to in order for Steve to get a better handle on the situation. Tony's safety was more important than Bucky's fears. Steve and Sam looked grim after Bucky shared what evidence he had come up with on his way to the apartment. Steve's jaw was tight.

“I- I don't know,” Steve said. “You sound sure of yourself, but I know that everyone brings their own biases into observations like this. If you were worried about hurting Tony before this you might just be seeing what you were expecting to see and missing other pieces.”

“And so I talked to you. Am I missing pieces?” Bucky asked.

“I'm no good at this Buck,” Steve said, shaking his head. “There's a reason I send you, Natasha or Clint to scout out more delicate missions.”

“And you're caught up in the heart of the mess which means your view is more than likely skewed,” Sam added. He pulled three cups down from Steve's cupboards and Bucky wondered when Sam had gotten more familiar with Steve's apartment than Bucky was.

“Talk to Natasha. Or Clint, though he's less aware of relationships and people,” Steve encouraged, resting his hands on Bucky's shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “Once you've figured out the problem then you can come to us. If it is a Winter Soldier thing we can help.”

“Please don't run away again,” Sam asked. Steve glared at him, but Bucky appreciated the bluntness of Sam's request. “Okay. Run away if you need to just give us a heads up and an eta on your return. We can't help you if you aren't around and I, for one, am not really looking forward to chasing after you in the middle of winter.”

“I won't run,” Bucky said. He meant it. Even if he was having problems with the Winter Soldier he liked the team. He liked Thor and Clint's video game tournaments. He liked living in the tower, having people around who understood when Bucky had a panic-attack. And if he really was hurting Tony he owed it to him to set things right.

“Good. Here's your hot chocolate,” Sam replied, setting the cup in front of Bucky. Bucky struggled to move his hand away from the clawed grip it had around his metal arm.

“I've got some extra stress balls and stuff if you need something to fiddle with that doesn't have the possibility of damaging your hardware,” Sam said.

“It's not usually this bad,” Bucky protested. He shook out his hand and grabbed the cup. The heat seeped through his fingers and the smell of warm chocolate swirled around his head.

Sam shrugged. “I'm just saying it's a option. There are some guys at the VA right now who are dealing with trichotillomania, so we've got some extra stress balls lying around. Sometimes they help redirect the urge to fiddle, sometimes they don't.”

“I wonder if magnets would work,” Steve said, sipping his hot chocolate. “If you stuck a few to your arm you could mess with those rather than the cracks in the plates. Besides, there's some cool Avengers themed magnets on Etsy that I've wanted an excuse to buy.”

“I guess I could try it,” Bucky said slowly. If the urge to tear his metal arm apart continued he would have to come up with something. He glanced down at his hot chocolate, but didn't drink. He didn't want to try his drink yet because he wasn't sure if his grip on the cup was steady enough yet.

Bucky let his friends' words wash over him as Sam and Steve got into a rather heated discussion over Steve's supposed Etsy addiction. It was nice to be around people without social pressure to interact. He needed a few moments to weigh Sam and Steve's advice. Bucky took a sip of his hot chocolate, distractedly watching Steve and Sam. There was something about their interaction that Bucky thought was off. Steve was hovering, pressing a little to close into Sam's personal space for normal friends and then backing off the moment he realized.

Huh. So Steve's mysterious crush wasn't that mysterious after all. Bucky wondered if Natasha figured it out yet. If not Bucky was about to be ten bucks and a backrub richer. Bucky finished his drink and cleared his throat. Sam and Steve turned towards him.

“I think- I'm going back to the tower. I've got to talk to Natasha,” Bucky said and Steve smiled at him, crossing over and clapping his shoulder.

“Alright. Call me later if it goes well. If not... We'll be here for you Bucky. All of us,” Steve said.

-.-.-

 

“Sit down,” Natasha said the moment Bucky walked through her door. He smiled at her weakly.

“I look that bad?” He asked and she shrugged.  
“Someone like Clint probably wouldn't notice, but there is some scuffing starting to show around the seams of your arm.”

Bucky nodded and settled on her couch. He really loved Natasha's rooms. They weren't cluttered, but they wasn't stark and unlived in like Tony's rooms had been before Bucky moved in. Bucky also knew where most of the hidden weapons in this room were, which was a comforting bit of knowledge. Natasha sat beside him, close enough that Bucky could feel her warmth.

“So what is it?” she asked, switching to Russian. The familiarity of the language settled Bucky and he relaxed back into the couch cushions.

“Aren't you going to tell me? You are the great observer,” Bucky pointed and and Natasha smirked.

“I'm not going to make it easy on you. If you want my advice you've got to play by my rules,” Natasha said. “Tell me what you think the problem is.”

“I think- Tony's been acting off, not getting enough sleep, too stressed out for the workload he is under and not talking to me about things he normally wouldn't have a problem bringing up. I think it's because I'm hurting him,” Bucky said, gazing at Steve's pencil sketch of Natasha which had been hanging on her wall since he gave it to her last Christmas. It was better than looking at Natasha's blank expression.

“And you have proof?” Natasha asked.

“He sprained his wrist, didn't tell me, and when I checked it out later the bruises matched my grip perfectly,” Bucky replied. The words felt like thorns in his mouth.

“You want me to confirm or deny whether or not the Winter Soldier is doing this.” Natasha stated. Bucky nodded. There was no point in beating around the bush.

“Close your eyes.”

Bucky did so immediately. He felt Natasha get up and heard her move around the room. He wasn't sure what she was trying to prove, but he trusted her. Something in the room shifted and Bucky's eyes flew open, his metal arm flew up in front of his face seconds before Natasha's dagger slammed home. The metal plates whined and held. Bucky stared up at Natasha, heart pounding and throat dry.

“What the hell was that?” He demanded.

“That was you not reverting to Winter Soldier programming when you were acutely in danger. You trust me. The Soldier doesn't,” Natasha explained, pulling back her knife and running her fingers over it. It was good metal and hadn't chipped. Natasha settled back down next to Bucky, resharpening her knife as Bucky tried to work out her point.

“You don't think I'm hurting Tony,” he said eventually, cutting through the silence that had gathered around them. “You think that if I were falling into the Winter Soldier programming again while sleeping I would do the same when in danger.”

“Fight training took the longest for you to work the kinks out of. The only other setbacks you've had are after particularly long and gruesome battles, or similar fights to ones the Soldier had. Switching during sleep has never been a problem for you,” Natasha pointed out. “It's possible, but not likely.”

Bucky leaned back against the couch, his relief bubbling up into semi-hysterical laughter. Natasha watch him, calmly sharpening her knife until he calmed himself down. She rested a hand on his arm.

“Besides, Tony is not someone to take a beating lying down. Even when he is in the wrong he will fight you for every piece of ground you want to take. If you were switching he would be the first to tell you and the first to help you start working through it,” Natasha said and Bucky folded against her like a doll whose strings had been cut.

“I know that, I just- I kept asking myself 'Why? Why won't he tell me what's going on?' and I don't have an answer,” Bucky explained, his words muffled by Natasha's shoulder. Natasha shook her head.

“He tells you when you're doing something wrong. He complains and badgers and whines and makes a big production out of it. The only times he doesn't is when he trips over that big brain of his,” Natasha continued, setting her knife aside and running a hand through Bucky's hair.

“Yeah. And if I weren't so worried about my own problems I would have seen that,” Bucky said, hints of his frustration with himself peeking through his words.

“No one is perfect,” Natasha answered. “Did you know, last year for Christmas he spent over sixty-three hours straight working on new Widow's bites for me? He made at least three new arrow heads for Clint, new uniforms for both Steve and Bruce, not to mention a fancy phone for Thor that could stand up to the wear and tear a god of thunder put his phone through. One year, not sure it was a Christmas though, he got Pepper a stuffed bunny rabbit that was too big to fit through the front doors. I'm sure Rhodey has a similar story.”

Bucky puzzled over the information he was just handed. Natasha enjoyed dropping breadcrumbs of information and watching as people fell into the conclusions she wanted them to. It took Bucky a moment then he sat up, pulling away from Natasha's hand. It was so clear he felt stupid for not realizing it himself.

“Tony's making me something.”

“In all likelihood, yes. He has an interesting relationship to gifts. He doesn't trust those given to him, but the only way he knows how to express how much he values the people in his life is through gifts,” Natasha said, getting up to slid her knife back in it's hiding place.

“God damn him. And I was so worried for nothing,” Bucky said, a sudden surge of anger punching through his gut and forcing him to his feet.

“It's everything to him,” Natasha pointed out and Bucky made himself to take a few deep breaths.

She was right, but what was Bucky supposed to do with this information? He couldn't let Tony keep pushing himself until he collapsed.

“So what do I do?” Bucky asked. Natasha smiled at him.

“That's your choice. I'll help you analyze the situation, but I'm not here to fix your problems for you. Go sleep on it,” she said sweetly, kissing Bucky on the cheek and leading him out the door.

Bucky sighed as the door clicked shut behind him. He didn't even get to tease Natasha about figuring out who Steve's crush was first.

-.-.-

 

The next morning Bucky planned his method of attack while making scrambled eggs. As long as he kept his cool he shouldn't have too much trouble. Bucky guessed his plan didn't matter too much; Tony was never one to play by the rules. Besides, Bucky had an advantage. He had a full night of sleep while Tony was running on fumes. He went down to the lab as soon as he finished breakfast. No point in putting it off now that he knew what Tony was doing. Tony didn't even glance up when the glass door swung open and Bucky walked in.

“Hey, dollface, you get any sleep last nigh?” Bucky asked, wrapping an arm around Tony's waist and dropping a kiss on his temple.

“Not right now,” Tony muttered, though he swayed into Bucky's side.

“Nope. You are getting some sleep.”

That woke Tony right up. He pulled away and glared at Bucky.

“I can't. I have to finish this,” he said, jaw clench and chin sticking out mulishly. Bucky wondered if Tony and Steve ever realized how similar they looked when they were fighting against people trying to get them to settle down and go to sleep.

“Jarvis, how many hours of sleep did Tony get last night?” Bucky asked, tugging a struggling Tony back into his arms.

“Less than four hours, Mister Barnes.”

“And the night before?”

“Approximately two and a half hours, Mister Barnes.”

“And the night before that.”

“Two hours and forty minutes, Mister Barnes.”

Tony's struggles increased.

“It's fine. I've worked through worse,” he insisted. “God damn it let me go.”

“No, and bringing up past bad experiences to get me to back off is not going to work this time, Tony,” Bucky said, finally lifting Tony off the ground and carrying him to the elevator. “We are going to go upstairs and I am going to pin you to the bed until you tell me what is going on, or until you fall asleep.”

Tony stiffened, pushing at Bucky's shoulder. Tony's hand caught the lip of Bucky's metal arm and, despite his sleep deprived and weakened state, he still shoved with enough strength to shift the arm in it's socket.

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky swore, dropping Tony and reaching for his shoulder.

“Oh my god. Oh fuck. Shit shit shit. Bucky, honey, I'm so sorry. Jesus, are you okay? Did I- What did I do?” Tony asked frantically, his hands fluttering in the arm about an inch from Bucky's arm, like he was afraid that touching it would break it.

“Tony,” Bucky growled. “Stand still, give me thirty seconds of silence and then I'll let you know.”

Bucky rubbed his shoulder then slowly started to move his arm, rolling his shoulder. Tony hadn't broken anything, just unsettled somethings. When Bucky looked up Tony looked about a second away from breaking down. His eyes were wild, his breathing was too fast and his hands were fisted so tight Bucky could seen his knuckles straining against his white skin. Bucky sighed and pulled Tony into a hug.

“Hey there love, deep breaths. I'm okay. That hurt like fuck, but didn't damage anything permanently,” Bucky reassured him. Tony slumped against him, forcing Bucky to hold up most of his weight.

“Oh thank god. I'm so so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to-”

“I know. Tony I know. I was man-handling you and you pushed back. That was perfectly fine. It was an accident that you pushed back on exactly the wrong spot,” Buck soothed, guiding Tony back into the elevator and trusting Jarvis to take them were they needed to go.

“I didn't mean- I didn't want to really hurt you,” Tony stammered. Bucky ran his hands down Tony's trembling body.

“Tony, you are exhausted. You make these sorts of mistakes when you are exhausted. Take another deep breath for me and then take a nap,” Bucky said, pulling Tony to their bedroom the moment the elevator doors pinged open.

Tony didn't struggle, letting Bucky guide him down the hall and onto the bed. Bucky lay next to him on his back and pulled Tony up so his head was pillowed on Bucky's chest.

“Match my breaths and close your eyes,” Bucky said, running a hand through Tony's grease stained hair. “That's right. Good. Now just settled down and go to sleep.”

It took less than five minutes for Tony's breathing to ease into sleep patterns. Bucky looked down at Tony's face and sighed. That was not how he was planning his morning to go, but he really should have expected that. Tony and plans mixed about as well as oil and water. Bucky reached over to the bed side table and grabbed his phone. Hopefully he was going to be stuck as a pillow for awhile.

-.-.-

 

Tony slept easily for a hour and a half before he started getting restless. Bucky tried to sooth him back to sleep to no avail. Within ten minutes Tony was up and blinking blearily at Bucky. Bucky watched at Tony ran through his memories of this morning trying to figure out why he ended up back in bed. Tony's eyes widened and he reached for Bucky's shoulder, his hand freezing inches above it.

“Are you-”

“I'm really fine. I had Jarvis scan it and there's nothing out of order. It was just a momentary jolt and I wouldn't be surprised if it was more psychosomatic pain than actual injury,” Bucky explained, catching Tony's hand and bringing it down to rest against his shoulder, hoping that would wipe the worried lines off of Tony's forehead.

“I didn't mean to-”

“Tony hush. I know you didn't. I you don't have anything to apologize for. It was really, truly an accident. I don't blame you at all,” Bucky reassured him. “Now settle down again, we have to have a bit of a talk.” Tony cautiously laid his head back down on Bucky's chest.

“What's up?” He asked.

“You,” Bucky replied simply. “I talked to Pepper after you fell asleep and she said you were done with the programming for the new Stark-phone. Just turned it in last night and yet, where do I find you this morning? The lab, again.”

“I really-”

“Tony, if it's not the truth I don't want to hear it,” Bucky demanded. His tone was sharp, but he ran his hands over Tony's back gently. Tony sighed and slumped against him.

“I'm- I just- Christmas is not my best time of year. I never have had these intimate, family sort of gift exchanges that the Avengers do and I don't know how to handle it,” Tony explained, turning his face away from Bucky.

Bucky hummed, to confirm that he was listening, and then let the silence spread out between them.

“I want your gift to be perfect,” Tony admitted, toying with Bucky's shirt. “I got this idea in my head that if I could just get your gift perfect it would – I don't know – show you how much you mean to me.”

“You already to that Tony. Every time I come down to the lab with a tray of lunch, you look up as I walk in and your face lights up,” Bucky murmured. “Every time. I've never had someone so consistently and so genuinely happy to see me.”

“Yeah but-” Tony started, cut off by Bucky's finger over his lips.

“I mean it Tony. Trust me when I say that I feel valued,” Bucky said. He could feel that Tony wanted to argue. When Tony sighed and relaxed against him again, Bucky smiled. “Continue. You wanted to make me the perfect gift.” Bucky prompted.

Tony shrugged. “The cold has really been bothering you this year. I wanted to- You've made my life so much better and I wanted to return the favor. I thought  if I could make something that would keep your metal arm warm then I could prove that I- that I deserve you I guess.”

“You would do that for me?' Bucky asked, feeling like he had just been thumped over the head with a brick. Natasha mentioned that Tony had a tendency to over work himself to make gadgets for his friends, but it was much more striking when Tony confirmed it.

“Yeah, of course,” Tony said, pulling his head off Bucky's chest to look at him. “It's hurting you and I want to make it better.”

Bucky grinned at him and pulled him into a kiss. It was sweet and gentle, everything that Bucky thought he could never have again after the Winter Soldier.

“Thank you,” He murmured against Tony's lips.

“I didn't even get it to work,” Tony protested.

“It's the thought that counts,” Bucky said, brushing his thumb over Tony's cheek. “But I really could have done without the lack of sleep and over abundance of bruises on your part. I thought-”

Tony perked up, his eyes flicking over Bucky's face. Bucky flushed and turned away. He didn't really want to tell Tony, but it was honesty hour so he thought he ought to.

“I thought that I was hurting you and you weren't telling me,” Bucky confessed. Tony's eyes widened and he gaped at Bucky.

“You though- What? Why?” Tony demanded. Bucky could see the gears whirling in Tony's brain as he tried to work out why Bucky would come to that conclusion. “Oh my god. You checked my wrist. That one night I hurt myself and the bruises matched up...”

Tony trailed off. He cupped Bucky's face in both hands and pressed his forehead to Bucky's.

“Sweetheart you were wrong. You were so so wrong. If you ever hurt me because of the Winter Soldier I would tell you, or Steve, or someone and we would fix it,” Tony said and the last bit of tension that Bucky wasn't aware he was holding on to drained away.

“Thank god,” he said, pressing a kiss to Tony's forehead. “But, why-?”

“Were my bruises in the shape of your hand?” Tony finished for him. Bucky nodded. “Because I made a matching model of your arm so I could make sure that any of my additions to your arm wouldn't screw the other bits up.”

“And what? This other arm attacked you?” Bucky asked, wondering what the hell Tony had been thinking.

Tony cleared his throat and twisted the fabric of Bucky's shirt about his finger. “I may or may not have thought that testing the grip function on my wrist was a good idea.”

“Tony...” Bucky started, his tone warning Tony of a safety lecture in his near future.

“It was fine, the grip worked fine!” Tony protested. Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I swear it did, I just- I may have tripped over a wire and fell, landing partially on the metal arm.”

Bucky sighed. Of course.

“One week. You owe me one week stress-free. Holographic design manipulation is the closest you are going to get to tinkering for the next few days,” Bucky said sternly.

“That's probably a good idea,” Tony admitted. “Though I've still got a few ideas for your arm.” Bucky opened his mouth protest and Tony covered it with his hand. “We can work on it after Christmas,” Tony amended. Bucky grinned at him.

“Sounds good to me,” he said. “Truth be told all I really wanted for Christmas was to spend time with you and the rest of my family.”

Tony beamed at him.

“Well guess what? I'm done with SI stuff and Pepper said she doesn't need me for the next three weeks,” Tony said. “I was thinking we could rent a cabin in the Rockies and go skiing. I've never been skiing, but I think it would be hilarious to watch Thor learn how to ski. Unless he already knows, in which case it would be hilarious to watch Clint try to beat Thor at skiing. We can invite Steve and Sam and accidentally on purpose make sure that the only possible room available for them is one with a single queen.”

“You noticed?” Bucky asked. Tony rolled his eyes.

“Like it was that hard. Steve does the shoulder thing with Sam,” Tony explained dismissively. “And we'll have Jane and Darcy and maybe Maria Hill and Pepper, after I convince her to take a break and-”

Bucky smiled and let Tony's voice drift over him. It sounded like he was going to have the best Christmas he could have ever wished for.


End file.
